Comfort
by JolinarJackson
Summary: Cases like this one pushed Ian into bars to drink himself into oblivion, or into clubs to find a willing body to distract him for the evening. Somehow, it was different this time. Charlie/Ian


**Comfort**

_Summary: _Cases like this one pushed Ian into bars to drink himself into oblivion, or into clubs to find a willing body to distract him for the evening. Somehow, it was different this time.

_Word Count:_ 892

_Pairing:_ Charlie/Ian Edgerton (Established relationship)_  
Rating:_ M _  
Setting: _Season 5

_Warning: _Slash, sex_  
Feedback:_ Can't breathe without it.

_Beta:_ Malaga, thank you!

_Disclaimer: _I'm not making money with this fanfic. The tv-show Numb3rs and the characters appearing within it belong to their producers and creators. Any similarities to living or dead persons are purely coincidental and not intended.

***

***

Sometimes, the hard knowledge that he'd killed a human being was stronger than the cold reality that he'd had no other choice.

Ian left San Francisco as soon as he could, heading towards Los Angeles. He left a closed case behind, but the expression on James Wallace's face still haunted him. The case had escalated in a flash from an act of revenge to hostage-taking and Ian, who had been in San Francisco because of another case, had helped out.

When James had surprised his father during breakfast, threatening him with a gun, his mother called the police. The desperate act of a boy who had wanted justice for his sister's sexual abuse had led to a panicked young man holding his father hostage in the family home. James had been determined to kill his father, and he made that clear to the police who stood outside.

Ian caught himself wishing that James had gone through with it. But he hadn't, and Ian had had no other choice but to end the 19 year old boy's life with a swift bullet to his forehead. James was dead, and his father, who had destroyed the life of his two children, lived.

Cases like this one pushed Ian into bars to drink himself into oblivion, or into clubs to find a willing body to distract him for the evening. Somehow, it was different this time. Alcohol couldn't help and a warm body wouldn't take his mind off things. That was why Ian was on the plane, heading for the one thing that would help.

Alan's car wasn't in the driveway and Ian knew from Charlie that Don was spending the week with Robin in New York. It made things easier for him that Charlie was alone, without the chance of any interruptions from curious family members. The light was on in the garage, but Charlie's shadow was moving about in the kitchen. Ian entered the house through the front door, using a key Charlie had given him about a month ago. Charlie was listening to his iPod and making a sandwich. Ian thought about calling out to get his attention but when he saw Charlie so unconcerned and lost in his own world, he just approached him, turning him around to face Ian before he caught Charlie's lips in a desperate bruising kiss, trying to lose himself deep inside the other man. Ian swallowed the surprised sound Charlie was uttering, pressing him against the waist-high counter. One of his hands dragged Charlie's T-shirt up and brushed under it, fingers gliding over warm skin. He broke the kiss and pressed his lips into the crook of Charlie's neck.

"Ian," his boyfriend panted.

He shook his head and kissed Charlie's lips again, pulling the earplugs down and placing the iPod on the bar next to his sandwich. He dragged Charlie aside, pinning him to the wall. One hand fidgeted with Charlie's jeans, while the other wrapped itself in his long hair.

"Shut up," he whispered. He opened the button on his jeans, and slid both hands around Charlie's hips to his back, sliding them into the back of his pants. Charlie gasped softly and a hand buried itself in Ian's short hair. Charlie's eyes looked at him with a mixture of arousal, confusion and trust. Ian pressed his thigh against Charlie's groin, pulling him comfortably close, then closer still. Charlie understood, wrapping his arms around Ian's neck and winding his legs around Ian's hips. Ian kept him pinned to the wall, so tight that it stole his breath, but carefully avoiding injury, and moaned when Charlie's fingers found his fly. He fisted a hand in Charlie's curls, forcing back his head and gently biting his neck before pulling him into a deep kiss.

Charlie's hands scrabbled at Ian's jeans, trying to get rid of them, but the angle was wrong and he let out a frustrated sigh after a few moments. "Ian, let's-"

Ian interrupted him with a kiss. He didn't want to talk. After cases like this one, he never wanted to talk. One night stands understood this simple fact, but Charlie apparently didn't. They broke the kiss reluctantly.

"Ian … wait, what …" He stopped, staring at him with large, dark eyes. He was trying to understand him. Something inside Ian was breaking in that moment. Charlie seemed to see it in his eyes, because he lowered his feet to the floor to pull Ian in a tight embrace. Ian felt as if all his energy was used up and sank to his knees.

"Whoa", Charlie said softly, following him to the floor. He cupped Ian's face in his hands. "What's going on?" His eyes looked shocked and even larger than usual, and Ian noticed that Charlie's thumbs were trying to wipe the tears off his cheeks. Ian brushed curly hair from Charlie's forehead, couldn't find his voice. Charlie embraced him firmly, hugging Ian's head to his shoulder. "What's going on?" Charlie whispered.

Ian gasped for breath and swallowed a sob. "I killed someone today," he said softly, his voice breaking. Charlie's grip tightened. Ian sobbed softly. "Charlie ..."

"Shh," Charlie murmured, stroking Ian's hair. Ian put his head on Charlie's shoulder, finding the smell of chalk in the faded shirt, and wondered when that smell and this touch had become his only comfort.

END

02/10


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